Missed
by Andromeda Prime
Summary: AU TF:Prime. "I just want to ask them why. Why did they have to give me up? What was it that happened that required them to leave me to die?" Rated T for implied slash and past mechpreg. Follow-up to "Crest" and birthday fic for Eisee does it. COMPLETE.


**I'd promised that I would not write a sequel to "Crest"…looks like some promises are made to be broken :/ Smokey's kinda growing on me, thanks to rewatchings of season 2.**

**This is also a birthday fic for the wonderful **Eisee does it **:)**

.-.-.

"_Sire!" he tugged on the long digits of the tall mech and led him over to one of the many tall windows in the Hall. He pointed down to the assembled crowd below. Alpha Trion recognized them immediately; Autobots. From the looks of it, it was a small group that had gone past the barricades in Iacon to infiltrate Decepticon strongholds, only to come back defeated._

"_What are they, Sire?" a young Smokescreen asked, looking up at him with wide blue optics holding an infinite trove of questions. Alpha Trion grinned and placed his servo on the young mech's helm, looking down again at the ground. One of the mechs, a blue and white noble he recognized by the name of Mirage, collapsed to the ground. A green mech, Hound, picked the downed mech up in his arms and cradled him to his chassis as he continued on his way. Shifting his gaze to the right, Alpha Trion saw two very familiar mechs walking together, on their way to meet the returning Autobots halfway._

"_They are Autobots, Smokescreen. They help protect us from the Decepticons."_

"_Decepticons? Those are mean, right?"_

"_Yes, young one."_

_Smokescreen's blue optics followed the group as they reached two other mechs. He watched them intently as the tallest one, a red and blue mech, stepped forward and took another of the Autobots in his arms. The smaller one, white and reddish-orange, looked through the group frantically. _

_Alpha Trion felt his spark clench in pity as Ratchet fell to the ground, sobbing. He twisted his lipplates. Ironhide had not come back to his bondmate-to-be. Optimus Prime handed Mirage back to Hound and knelt down next to Ratchet, placing his servo on the medic's back. Though he was not anywhere near them he knew that his former charge was comforting the medic. When he looked down at the mechling he'd been entrusted with he noticed that Smokescreen was staring at the last hope of Cybertron._

"_Who is that red mech, Sire?"_

If only you really knew. _"That is Optimus Prime. He is the leader of the Autobots, and our last hope for Cybertron to live."_

_Smokescreen's wings lifted themselves into the air, and he tilted his helm to the side, studying the movements of this Optimus Prime. How he carried himself, how he was so noble and regal, caring for everyone else. As any young creature would he decided on something._

"_I want to be a leader like him, Sire!"_

"_And I'm very sure you will be." Alpha Trion turned away from the windows and headed off to his workstation. He'd spent enough time away from his duties. "Come, Smokescreen."_

_Smokescreen stayed at the windows for a few moments longer, watching the other Autobots trudge off to some place he couldn't see. The only one left was Optimus Prime. Optimus Prime stayed staring ahead from where the others had come. He watched as he closed his optics and the wind picked up. The red mech opened his optics and looked around at the buildings, both intact and crumbling to dust, around him. Then he looked up at the Hall of Records. Smokescreen felt his spark jump as Optimus Prime looked up at him. His wings twitched and he smiled, waving his servo down at the Prime. Optimus Prime didn't seem to have noticed. He looked back down and unsheathed his blades, turning around and following the rest of the Autobots that were ahead of him._

"_I'm going to be a leader like him someday!" Smokescreen chanted to himself, his young and innocent voice echoing in the empty halls of the Hall of Records._

.-.-.

Smokescreen kept staring at himself in the mirror that was a lake, looking at all his features. Looking at his slender facial construct, the crest on his helm, the shape of his optics. He then looked at his servos, his legs, every part of his body.

The thought had been nagging in the back of his processor since his arrival on Earth. But…it was ridiculous, wasn't it? As odd as it sounded, he couldn't ignore how his spark pulled towards the Prime, wanting warmth and comfort as a sparkling would want from their carrier. Maybe this was all just an effect from his abandonment as a newspark…but why should he feel this way? Alpha Trion had taken great care of him, was a great adoptive creator, had never left him wanting anything.

Everyone else his age had outgrown their fascination with heroes, be they of the past, such as Andromeda the Warrior, or present, like Optimus Prime. He hadn't.

He couldn't place why it was Optimus Prime's voice that gave him the most comfort and reassurance. He couldn't place why his spark called for the Prime. Why he still looked up to him so much.

Could it…could it be?

Nah. There were no records of Optimus Prime ever bearing a sparkling or siring one…

Then again, half of recording history is hiding the truth…

He raised his servo to his forehelm crest, running his thumb over it. For once, at a loss for words.

.-.-.

::Ratchet::

The medic looked up from his work. Miko had crashed into a table and broken yet another instrument this time. ::What is it, Optimus?::

::I…I require assistance, right now::

The urgency in the Prime's voice had the medic bolting to his pedes and racing down the corridor to Optimus's quarters. He punched in the override code and entered the large room, optics widening at the sight of Optimus Prime sitting on his berth, hunched over with his servo pressed to his chassis. Which was leaking pale blue energon that drenched his servo and dripped down his frame, pooling on the berth and on the floor.

Ratchet grabbed Optimus by the servo and quickly led him to the Prime's private washracks. He forced Optimus to sit. Optimus tried to stand up, but the medic pushed him back down, ordering, "Sit. Don't stand up." Ratchet reached into his subspace and brought out a strange device that resembled a clear plastic tube bent at a 90-degree angle, with a opaque sphere in the middle. The medic coaxed the Prime's chassis plates open and groaned when he saw the mess. Energon leaking from the Prime's feeding tubes, which were overfull and about to burst. Potentially fatal if not taken care of.

Grabbing the one that looked like it was about to explode the quickest, he stuffed the soft end that usually went into a sparkling's mouth into one of the contraption's ends and twisted the sphere until he heard a click. Optimus looked down in confusion as the energon from the feeding tube was sucked through the contraption and down the washrack drain, where Ratchet held the device over.

"That is…that's-"

"Sparkling energon."

"Ratchet…I've not borne a sparkling in millennia…" The embarrassment in the Prime's voice was evident.

Ratchet stayed quiet, watching the pale blue liquid flow from the feeding tubes down the drain. When this tube was emptied he moved to the other one, and both mechs watched the last of the fluid escape from the Prime's chassis. Ratchet turned the pump off and set it aside, making a mental note to clean it later, and brought out a rag from his subspace, wiping down the Prime's chassis cavity and the tubes, reconnecting them.

"This has happened before. Carriers that gave up their sparklings for adoption, obviously, never got the chance to feed them, and the sparkling energon that their bodies produced was infused back into their frames. But later, if they came across their sparklings and were around them for a prolonged period of time, the body recognizes the sparkling and lets all the sparkling energon loose once more. Some have died because they did not recognize what was happening and their tubes burst," the medic stated that last sentence quietly, holding the rag in one servo and picking up the pump in his other one, getting to his pedes. Optimus stood and swayed slightly, steadying himself against a wall.

"So it seems that your suspicion of Smokescreen being our sparkling is valid, after all," Ratchet whispered. Optimus looked blankly at the medic. "You did know at first sight. Do not hesitate to call me should this happen again. Sometimes it can take multiple times for the carrier's body to eject all the sparkling energon."

Ratchet left the Prime to himself. Optimus ran his servo over his chassis and abdominal plating, bringing his servo to his faceplates and studying the energon. It was very sticky, having been exposed to air. He quickly washed his frame free of the substance. He needed a drive away from the base.

It was nearing dusk when he arrived at a spreading of brush and rock formations in the Nevada desert. He took on his bipedal mode and walked through the maze of hills and rock formations until the familiar sight of a small lake met his optics.

And with that, a now familiar frame.

"Smokescreen?" Optimus tilted his helm to the side. The newest addition to Team Prime looked up from the water, his blue optics cutting through the darkening night. "Oh, hi Optimus. What…what brings you out here? N-not that I'm trying to be rude or anything…" Smokescreen gave an awkward laugh and quieted when the Prime gave him a reassuring smile.

"It would seem that you and I both take comfort in this planet's water resources," Optimus walked over to the white mech's position and sat down a few feet away from him. "When I am in need of peace and quiet, this is my favorite place to come to."

"Oh…um, well I better find another place then-"

"I do not mind, Smokescreen." Optimus smiled at the mech. "When I say peace and quiet, I mean that I need a break from being the leader of Team Prime." He cast his gaze to the water and closed his optics. "It gets a bit difficult to keep your composure after all this time."

Quiet fell around them, broken only by the sounds of hawks overhead and the occasional wolf howling. Smokescreen tapped his digits together, antsy, as if he wanted so badly to ask something. So did Optimus, but he maintained his composure. Before the smaller and younger mech could ask anything he turned to face Smokescreen. "You are not sure of what became of Alpha Trion, then?"

Smokescreen seemed a bit upset at the question, more at himself than anything. "N-no. I'm sorry. I know how much he meant to you…he meant a lot to me too, but…I haven't heard from him since I went into stasis. Well, of-of course I wouldn't be able to hear from him, I was in stasis after all and I couldn't hear anything-"

"He meant a lot to you as well. How so?"

"Well…" Optimus watched Smokescreen thin his lipplates and cast his gaze upward. Exactly what Ratchet did when the medic was collecting his thoughts. "As I said, I got my training from the Elite Guard and assigned to protect Alpha Trion. I wasn't really straightforward with you all. Alpha Trion took me in as a sparkling. I was abandoned somewhere outside of Iacon a little after the war started. He took care of me and was a great creator. When I came of age I started training with the Elite Guard, in hopes of becoming a great warrior and hoping I'd go out and battle in the field, but I wasn't exactly happy when he requested that I come back to help guard him and the Hall. What else could I do, though?" Smokescreen shrugged a shoulder. "He gave me a home when no one else would have."

"It would seem we both owe a lot to him," Optimus nodded, turning to face the water and hiding his half-grin. "He was a wonderful Sire-like figure to me as well…I hope he is alive, wherever he may be."

"So do I. I don't think I ever thanked him for taking care of me my whole life. I can't really help but wonder what would have become of me if I hadn't been found, or if my creators decided to keep me."

Optimus placed a servo on Smokescreen's back, between his doorwings. How he really wanted to tell Smokescreen the truth. Tell him that he, Optimus Prime, was the one that carried Smokescreen, that Ratchet was his sire, and how it pained him and Ratchet to give up their beautiful son. All the missed stellar cycles of Smokescreen's life. They hadn't been there for him.

"I'm sure whomever and wherever your creators are and may be, they love you deeply. They might regret having to give you up, or believe it was the best thing for you…but take comfort that you did not remain a forgotten orphan. A generous mech took you in."

"I know." Smokescreen looked up at the stars that began appearing in the sky. "But I just want to ask them why, though. Why did they have to give me up? What…what was it," the mech's voice seemed to grow a little hard and angry, prompting Optimus to remove his servo from Smokescreen's back, "that happened that required them to leave me to die?"

The Prime looked away, suppressing a sigh. "I regret that I don't have any answer that I can give you…only they know. Only Primus knows."

Smokescreen still stared up at the stars, but his expression softened. Optimus followed his line of sight, and saw that the mech was looking in the general direction of their homeplanet. His spark twinged. "I am going to return to base. I advise you to do the same as well."

The younger mech stayed looking up at the sky for a few moments before getting to his pedes and following Optimus back to base.

::Optimus, where did you leave to?::

::I went for a drive. Smokescreen and I are en route back to base::

The medic was quiet for two seconds on his end of the communications link, then seemed to come to his senses ::Did…did you tell him, Optimus?::

::I decided against it. But…I do think we should tell him someday. But for now I believe he will be happier not knowing::

::And safer::

::Yes. And safer::


End file.
